Realization
by Loveforthestory
Summary: When Charlie is helping Monroe with an unexpected situation, she realizes something. So does Bass.
1. Chapter 1

**When making my coffee, I thought of this little story. Charloe. Because apparently that goes great with my morning coffee.**

* * *

Realization

1.

Bass _was_ leaning against the bar and enjoying his drink and well, the view of some very fine ladies. He is not anymore.

After his brother ditched him for a girlfriend he, well...kind of hates more than seeing Blanchard's ugly face, he had walked his ass over to the one bar in Willoughby and decided to have some fun on his own.

And maybe, but that was a big fucking maybe, he hopes to see another Matheson tonight. One with a much finer ass then the moron had who made him drink all alone. And Bass has dome some shit in his life, but as far as he is concerned, that is a crime against brothers everywhere.

He had ordered some whiskey's until not that one Matheson he did hope to find here tonight, he was in a bar for fuck sake, but an annoying as hell petite blond walked in. The calculating look in her eyes told him she knew exactly who he is. A girl looking to fuck a General and all the thrill that came with that.

She orders a drink next to him, wrapping herself around and over the bar, giving him an impressive look of her tits. But Bass Monroe likes a good chase. He has fucked around and seen it all. This one, she was making it way too easy until the point he was just tired of her.

'You look so very strong, General.' What's her name purrs, almost touching his biceps through his leather jacket with her finger.

Making even Eve, the woman owning the bar and currently standing at the other side of it, roll her eyes in amusement.

Bass takes another sip of his whiskey and gives her his best grin with, hopefully, just enough of blue steel fuck off in it. 'Not looking for anything tonight.' He says in a low voice.

'You sure...because I sure am...I think you and I could have a great time...' She almost presses her tits to his arm. No strike that, her tits are definitely brushing the leather of his jacket now.

Bass gives her a glare with his lips around his glass of whiskey.

'I don't think so.' He is looking away from her, irritation now forming in his eyes. The girl cannot take a hint because she keeps on twirling around him.

And then, with a sigh of relieve, his rescue for the night walks in. Bass' voice booms through the bar.

'Hey Staypuft, can I buy you a drink?'

* * *

Charlie _was_ looking forward to the night that lay ahead. She is not anymore. Her uncle ditched her for a night at home with her mom.

She had raised her eyebrow and shot her former very badass Uncle a look with utter disbelieve. Miles face looked like it had taken that look as a well placed bullet.

Guilt washed over his eyes. 'Sorry kid, another time.' Miles had said. Winked at her to relieve some tension. Rachel had walked in. She had just grabbed her jacket and had started to walk to the bar. Alone.

She steps into the bar and does not make it ten feet before Aaron is with her. He does not look happy.

'Monroe needs your help with some...irritation.' Aaron sounds slightly pissed. Charlie smiles at Aaron using a word that is so much Monroe. Monroe had bought him a drink and charmed his way into him giving Charlie this message.

Charlie follows his nod to the bar where The great badass General Monroe is struggling with a petite blonde that is almost crawling straight into his lap and onto his cock. She cannot help but smirk at the look in his eyes that just scream hell no at the girl and then find her. She does not hate the guy as much as she did, but it is good to see him squirm.

'He also says, you owe him one.' Aaron continues.

Charlie sighs. The moron had kind of saved her life yesterday in a trap from the Patriots. They seem to still not be able to not save the other when things get hard. So, she does kind of owe him one. She looks at Monroe with a pissed glare.

She nods at Aaron and is about to walk over to the bar and all the drama waiting there, when Aaron stops her.

'You know Charlie, I love you. I support you. But every now and then I really, _really_ do not think it is fair we have to deal with him and all his crap on a daily basis because you brought him home.'

Charlie just smirks at Aaron before she makes her way over the guy she did bring home and the petite little blonde who is currently all around him. She smiles to herself. You know, she does owe Monroe. It does not mean she does not get to have some fun while helping the guy out.

* * *

Bass sees Charlie talk to Staypuft and he really fucking hopes she will help a guy out here. He watches her raise that eyebrow of hers, watches her glare and finally watches her smirk right before she walks over. And he feels something tighten in his gut. This is going to be all kinds of good.

'Hey babe,' Charlie starts as she has almost reached Monroe.

Bass almost snorts out his whiskey as he hears her call him that. He recovers quickly, making a very impressive guilt face. The blonde's eyes are assessing the situation as they go from Charlie to the General as she takes a first step back. She knows who this woman is. And she does not want a catfight between her and this other woman.

Charlie turns her eyes from Monroe to the blonde before her. ' From where I was standing it kind of looked like you were into my guy.' Her voice is not that loud but still carries danger in it. Her eyes fire at the blonde.

The blonde finds some courage, deep into her cleavage probably.

'Well, look at him.' She challenges Charlie with a sly smile around her lips. She takes another step to Charlie now. Her eyes romancing over her General again.

Bass eyes go from Charlie to the other girl. God, he is enjoying every fucking minute of this. He watches the cool blue turn into fire in Charlie's eyes. _And here we go_...is all that is on his mind.

Charlie smirks, so much like Miles, but so much like herself, Bass thinks. Her eyes shoot cold threat to the other woman.

'What's your name?' Charlie asks.

'Gina.' The other woman answers, almost spitting in her face.

'Well Gina, you better walk your ass away from him, right now bitch.'

Bass grins behind his whiskey. Dear fucking god. This is all kinds of woman heaven right in front of him.

'And why would I do that?' Gina asks with some venom in her voice.

'Because he is mine.' Charlie counters, not looking away from her.

'He did not tell me he was taken. I have never seen the two of you together.'

'Well then, let me show you.' Charlie says with a sly smirk.

And before Bass knows what the fuck is happening, Charlie turns his way, yanks his leather jacket into her hand and pulls his mouth towards her. Her mouth envelops his as she kisses him wildly and deeply, slowly. He is still leaning against the bar, the whiskey glass still in hand. But she finds the space between his legs and kisses him how Bass sees her when she is slicing her way through some kaki assholes. Hard, fast, passionate and all in.

It is pure reflex when his free hand moves around her slender body that is so fucking close now, and his hand finds her back, right under her shoulder blades. Her long dark blonde hair touches his calloused fingers.

Charlie feels his chest, the cool of the leather jacket, the heat of his mouth. How endlessly tall he is. How he moves his hand towards her back with a skill and experience that makes her almost shiver. The right amount of pressure his hand has on her jacket. How he tastes of whiskey and him. Of ego and fight and so many things she does not want to feel.

He is getting hard and he almost pushes his dick towards her hips.

She is turning into liquid fast as she almost lets out a moan.

When she breaks the kiss, with his leather jacket still in hand, there is no more sign of Gina. She looks up at Monroe, his blue eyes burning into hers.

'I think she left a while ago.' He smirks at her.

Charlie steps away from him, catching her breath. She is about to walk over to some friends as she looks at him with another sly almost lazy smirk, like she is deep in thought for a moment.

He stands at the bar as she puts more distance in between them.

'All right then, I guess we are even Monroe.'

'I guess we are, Charlotte.' Bass grins at her, his lips going back to the whiskey glass. Charlie has to follow his lips.

She then turns way, and moves back into the crowd of the bar. But right before she turns away from him, Bass catches her licking her bottom lip as he drinks the amber drink in his glass.

* * *

Bass goes home alone that night. And right before he walks into his bedroom and he is about to crash his ass into bed for some needed hours of sleep before another meeting tomorrow, early morning, he thinks about the little stunt Charlie has pulled.

His cock is hard again, just thinking of her. He moves his fingers to his button. He unzips. He moves his hand to his cock and takes it into his hand. He starts to jerk of, with eager movements of his hands. And the thinks about her. Fuck. Charlie.

He thinks of her with that blonde, how she told that little nobody bitch to go and walk away from him. He thinks about the kiss and the fire in it, about her belly so fucking close to his cock. And he speeds up the movements of his hand. And then, as he remembers his fucking favourite part, the part where Charlie was telling that bitch what to do and to move away from him, he remembers her with another woman.

 _Duncan_.

Her gun aimed at her. In that tent. And finally, finally he fucking understands what it was all about there in new Vegas. It makes him come within seconds, the warm sticky fluid now all over his fingers. And he finally understands why Charlie had pulled her gun at Duncan so fucking fast. He is realising it just now with a sly smirk on his face.

Duncan Page had messed with her guy.

* * *

Charlie wishes she could sleep. She wishes she could sleep instead of thinking about him. but she can't. She thinks about his moustache against her lips. She thinks about his scruff around her lips. She thinks of his hand that moves with a determined deliberate and experienced pace to her back. She thinks about the space between wide thighs where she had found herself. She thinks of Monroe and the way his leather jacket had felt in her hands , right before she had pulled him close for that kiss.

It is warm night and she sleeps naked under a white cool sheet. The sheet is wrapped around her body. Her fingers move to her thighs. She has no other choice. She starts to touch herself, the palm of her hand between her thighs. The fabric of the sheet adding more friction. And she thinks of him, liquid and warm between her thighs and against the sheet now. And she comes, intense and falling apart in her own bed. Alone.

She wishes she could sleep and not think of the bolt of jealousy that she had felt when that little nobody bitch was wrapping her way around Bass.

But instead she lays here. Her breathing still so very fast, sweat on her skin, her body overwhelmed with wanting him and her orgasm that has left her breathless. And craving for more. Charlie stares to the ceiling.

And she realizes, that things have just begun tonight at the bar.

She wants him. God help her, but she wants Bass. Monroe.

It is silent in her bedroom and in town when her curse moves into the room.

'Shit.'

* * *

 **Authors Note: Thanks for reading everyone, I loved writing this with my morning coffee. Wishing you a good day, a lot of coffee and ...a lot of Charloe. A review or feedback is always welcome! Love from Love**


	2. Chapter 2

**I was, and still am, overwhelmed by all of your amazing reviews for my story, thank you so, so very much! I was playing with adding more and well...here it is, chapter two! Chapter three is in the works too.**

Realization

2.

Bass lets the new information go through his mind like he would do when strategising right before a battle.

Like he once did, behind his desk. After hours of meeting with his officers and go over maps and endless options. And when they were all gone he would sit behind his desk and go through reports and let the strategy take form in his mind.

He is walking back to his place, his hands in his pockets. His shoulders clad in black leather. Focussing on his boots on the street as he is no mood to deal with all the shit in the looks from the people who are passing him on the damn street. He had spent some time with his brother and some whisky Well, actually a lot of it. His mind had been with another Matheson.

And now he walks his ass home and he can still taste the whisky. He can still taste _her_ just like when he had been jerking of to her and only her.

He thinks back to a time where she had been a name in his reports. A name in briefings from his men who had walked into his office to give him a status update. On Miles. On her. Her name a whisper through his hallways in independence hall.

Charlie fucking Matheson.

And now, when he walks through the streets of Willoughby, Bass is mulling over and around the thought of her. If only thinking of her makes him come like hell with his cock in his damn hand. he thinks coming with her pinned under him will be fucking amazing.

His cock twitches in his pants at just the thought.

So Bass Monroe walks, his mind moves around thoughts of her. He will have her, he will not walk away now. Not a fucking chance in hell. He never has walked away from any fight he thought was worth fighting. A battle, a city, half a continent.

He is Sebastian Monroe, and no matter what everyone says, he still does whatever the fuck he wants.

And he wants _her._

* * *

It is one week since her night wrapped in sheets and wrapped in thoughts of him. The night arrives where she usually sees Miles and meets for a drink with her Uncle. She won't take no for an answer. Not this time. Her mom might have her means to persuade Miles to become the perfect little husband she thinks he should be for the future and play house with him.

But she is a damn Matheson, and her stubbornness will trump her mother's radical ideas when it comes to Miles. She has watched her mom with Miles. With Monroe when it comes to Miles.

And the fact that Charlie just emphasises for a very small part, but there nevertheless, with Monroe's side in all of this when her mom is clawing her way between both men, is a testimony to how intense Rachel interfering with their friendship is. Charlie cannot blame Monroe for his biting insults at her mom. Things are on edge and it is the reason why Charlie has her own place, tired of her mother's shit these days.

She is approaching Miles and her mom's house and she feels her heartbeat pump a little bit harder in her chest. Monroe. He could be there. She breathes a bit faster as she remembers her hand between her thighs, touching herself through the white sheets wrapped around her.

It was not the first time Monroe had been on the edge of her mind when getting lost in touching herself. But it was the first time since she knew how he tasted. Since she had told that bitch to get lost and she had felt his mouth and beard against hers. How sturdy and rough his body felt pressed against her. It was the first time she had let him in, all of him.

Another heartbeat when she thinks of that slow deep kiss at the bar. Another as she remembers at the way his blue steel burned straight through her afterwards.

But then she shakes her head. So maybe he is at Miles' place. _Let him be there_ , she does not care.

She just wishes it sounded more convincing in her head. But then she remembers all the bad vibes with Monroe, Miles and her mom together in one room and she sighs a bit in relieve. He won't be there. He never is, not when there is a chance he has to listen to her mom _nag and whine_. His own words.

The steps of her boots up the steps of the porch are lithe. Her hair moves with her steps over her shoulders, over the leather of her jacket. She knocks on the door to avoid any awkward situations and walks into the kitchen.

Miles is standing in the kitchen with his jacket ready over a chair. Charlie considers it to be a good sign.

'Hey Uncle Miles, ready to go?'

Miles is grinning at a smirk that is so very much her, his niece. 'Sure kid, let's get the hell out of here.'

Miles is about to put his arm in one sleeve of his jacket when two things happen at the same time. Her mom walks into the kitchen from the living room. Looking from Miles to Charlie.

And he, _he,_ walks into the kitchen through the backdoor. And of course, she stares right in the face of the man that has been on her mind when she has been wrapped into sheets and wrapped into wet and warm thought of him with her hand between her thighs that one night.

'Monroe.' She nods at him.

'Charlotte,' he smirks back as he looks at her.

Part _one_ of his strategy, surprise the hell out of her.

A good strategy can use a surprise element and looking at Charlie's face, he says he has fucking succeeded. He must say, he is impressed by her keeping that gorgeous face of her so damn straight. But he sees the hint of blushing in her eyes. She has been trying to hide it from it for him for so long. But now he is on to her. He knows. He feels it so bad he can almost taste her. Dammit, he wants to fuck her badly.

Looking at her surprised eyes is pay back for the stunt she pulled in the bar, for that kiss that still keeps him up every single night since it had happened.

'Rachel.' Bass' voice is low and cold when he has trouble pulling his eyes away from Charlie. Rachel looks pissed. Bass just shrugs a bit with his eyes. He is fucking amused by Rachel's bitch stare from hell for the way he is walking into her their damn kitchen.

He then moves to Miles. 'So, ready for a boys night?' A smirk with ego falls over his face.

'I am right here, you know?' Charlie sounds pissed.

'Oh I am sorry,' His voice smooth as silk with rough Monroe right through it. Bass moves over to her and throws an arm around her. 'A boys night with the company of this engaging lady.'

Part _two_ of his strategy, a little charm never hurts.

'Jesus Monroe,' Charlie bites back. Feeling his arm around her body is like a bolt though her system.

His arm never seems to stop and it is strong and heavy and she disappears completely under it. Something starts to stir deep inside of her belly when she can take in some of his scent.

'Miles I kind of need your help for something?' Rachel starts, her voice cool as she is aiming daggers at Monroe for event thinking about touching Charlie like he is now.

Miles just looks like a lost puppy at this point.

Charlie feels Monroe tense up. She sees Miles struggle. She feels the rigid tension in Monroe's hand. She hears him sigh and look at the wooden of the kitchen floor. His hand is going over his nose and beard. When he pulls back his arm from the place around his shoulder, there is still the heavy weight of him around her.

Bass looks pissed at Rachel and Miles, as he throws his hands in the air in a slow irritated manner. 'So, here we are again, huh?'

Charlie just thinks one thing. She is tired of this. And she wants her whisky. And before Miles can talk, before her mom can talk, she talks.

'I'm so tired of this shit.' She looks with strong blue eyes at the both them. And then she looks only at Monroe.

'Want to get out of here, Monroe while they try to figure out their shit?'

Bass looks at her in a bit of a shock. And then he watches his brother and his girlfriend slash holier than thou bitch.

Part _three_ of a good strategy, improvise when things take an unexpected turn.

'That,' he points two fingers at Charlie when he slowly grins at her, '..is music to my ears.'

He nods at the back door. 'Come one...let's go.' His voice is low and scratchy and makes the muscles in Charlie's thighs respond.

They leave Rachel behind with her mouth a bit open. And before Miles cans see anything, Charlie and Bass are out of the door.

* * *

'You know for a woman you are a very good addition to boys night.' Bass grins at her. A glass of whiskey in his hand as he points at her.

'Well I am a Matheson.' She drinks her whisky and grins back. 'We know our booze.'

They share a real honest smile over the table between them. Maybe the first one in the history of ever, Bass thinks.

'You know, for an arrogant son of a bitch with ego issues, you are actually pretty good company Monroe.'

He says nothing, just looks at her as he grins widely. His dick telling him exactly how fucking much he seems to want her the most when she is so damn honest and fearless with him.

'Well, look at us.' He toasts with his glass and watches her drink. They go through their conversation easily, just like they go through the whiskey.

Bass looks at her glass, now empty. He gets up from their table. 'Let me buy you another one.'

'You do not have to buy me a drink, Monroe.' Charlie says with an annoyed glare.

'I know, but I still want to.' He walks over to her. He grabs her glass. 'You know, as the gentleman I am.'

And instead of walking to the bar, Charlie watches him walk over to her side of the table.

Bass watches the quick shift in her.

Part _four_ of his strategy. When your opponents thinks you are going left, go right.

And then he leans into the table with one hand right next to her left elbow. He leans into the table and closer to her. Her pull to him is already swirling low and deep inside of her.

He is close enough to smell and taste on her tongue.

'And you can call me Bass, Charlie.' His voice is close to her neck and ear. His breathe brushing her skin like his eyes connect with her since the beginning.

When he walks away with two glasses to refill and is making his way towards the bar, Charlie looks at wide shoulders in leather and wild curls at the nape of his neck.

And she feels warmth spreading in between her thighs.

Shit, she is fucked.

* * *

She expects Bass to make a move when he comes back. He doesn't. He does sit down next to her, the empty chair now filled with so much Monroe. He asks about her life. She actually finds herself in a place where she asks him about his. The night moves quickly. Until Eve shoots a look towards them from her spot at the bar where she is cleaning glasses with a towel in her hand.

When they turn to her and look at the bar, it is empty. Everyone is gone.

'Come on, I'll walk you home.' Bass nods. When he walks over to Eve to pay for their damages in drinks, Eve just shakes no and winks at him. She has been looking at both of them and tells them to get the hell out of here.

'You do come back to pay your tab, General. I know where you live.' She adds with a no bullshit voice but with a laugh running through it.

'Thanks Eve, goodnight.' Charlie smiles at her.

'Goodnight hon.' Eve laughs at the people who she has been watching from her spot at the bar all night. She had planned to go home and close her bar when everyone else has been going home, but she couldn't. Not while they were so lost in each other. She stayed open a bit late before she decided to kick them both out.

Bass just grins at her before he turns back to Charlie, his fingers brushing her lower back, his skin against her leather. Her so damn close under his fingertips.

They walk outside the bar, close to the other. Hands brushing, side to side, like the one time they had walked into New Vegas. It is on both of their minds.

Bass can take in her sweet scent.

Part _five_ of his strategy. He curls up his lips a little in a fast grin. His favourite part. Take whatever the hell you want.

Charlie cannot stop to think about how much she wants him. About how much this cannot happen. At how much she cannot feel this. But, the man next to her is and stays Sebastian Monroe. He is fast, and skilled and experienced. She feels his large hands all around her arm and back as he turns her towards him and into a dark alley close to the bar. She finds herself trapped between a wall and Monroe.

When she is finally able to realize what is happening, he has her pinned against it. His blue eyes burning and looking at her. He aggressively moves his lips over what he wants to conquer tonight. He crashes his mouth on hers. She lands with her body against the wall as his hungry kiss takes her by surprise. The hardness of the bricks of the wall rubbing into her back. Monroe rubbing his hard cock into her belly with one angle of his large thighs.

His hand is digging deep into her hip, as he takes her exactly in the way he has been thinking about, when it had been just him and his fucking right in hand.

But now she is here. All of her.

She has to respond to his mouth and grabbing on to her. She is not just standing here. She is still her even when this son of a bitch is taking her by surprise. She grabs his arm, and pushes her breasts and hips hard into his body arms, with her hands around his neck.

Monroe grabs her shirt. Monroe grabs her ass. Shit, his hands are large, his arms strong and hard. His chest wide and never wanting to stop when her breasts move hard against it.

Charlie curses something again at how large his hands feel when his fingers are digging into the skin of her ass. Her thighs have a will on their own. And she needs to feel him, hard and greedy, right there between her legs.

When she moves her legs around Monroe and he helps her as he guides her closer to his dick, her thighs find what they want. His cock, hard and waiting in his pants.

It gives Bass enough time to curse something as she moves her thighs over his cock. 'Fuck...Charlie.'

His cock twitches by how fucking bad she wants his cock. His. Nobody else's. His.

It is in the way he shows his want for her that make her wet, so damn wet.

It is the way she demands his dick with her thighs that makes his cock throb in his damn pants.

It is almost like she is crashing into him again, like she has done with that steel bar when there was an unconscious bounty hunter against a fence somewhere close to New fucking Vegas. But she is not fighting Monroe. She is not killing him either. She is on her way to fucking Monroe.

He yanks her hands away while they are on their way to his pants. He growls at her impatience. They kiss, he tastes her. Charlotte. Charlie. His. He needs to have her, but also to stay in control.

He feels a deep hunger for control. Show her what he can do to her. Make her see what it is like. To be with him.

He looks at her. She looks at him. His hands move to her pants with eager violent movements. Right before he opens them, he waits. And she nods, giving him what he needs.

Her eyes filled desire and want and need for him to touch her, to take her.

He curses again as he opens her pants and cannot wait anymore. Not after all of it. He has to feel her, feel what he has thought o so many times before. How she will feel, wet and ready. For him.

Charlie moans as his fingers move through wet soft curls and into her pussy. She leans in, and lets Monroe hold her up against the wall and against him. He moves his finger inside of her as he watches him. When Charlie manages to open her eyes, his dark eyes filled with want are waiting for her.

'Come on Charlotte...come for me...' he says with a rough voice. Needing her, needing her to come all around his damn fingers. Her wetness slowly gliding down from his fingers and in between her thighs.

'Fuck...Monroe...' she whispers harshly as lets go and comes hard with her head tilted back against the wall. The split second before her orgasm takes her, she thinks about moving her head against his chest, into the nook of his neck right under his beard. But she can't. It's too much. Too personal.

 _Not yet._ A whisper, an echo, in between his large fingers deep inside of her.

After he makes sure she is taken care of, his cock cannot wait. He opens up his button and zipper as Charlie watches him with more lust in her eyes.

He almost comes in his fucking pants at the sight of her, those damn wet curls he sees with her pants hanging open and her pussy waiting for him.

He gets her far enough out her damn pants to fuck her. He moves her up the wall with his hands under her ass.

And finally he takes what he fucking wants and has wanted. For so long. For too long.

He takes her. Her.

And when he finally moves the head of his cock inside of her, he watches her and only one word passes his lips.

'Charlie...'

It is the tone in his voice that gives away too much, she picks up on it, he just fucking knows. But he does not give a fuck anymore, not now her warm pussy around his cock is all he thinks about.

He pushes deep inside of her in one thrust as Charlie moans, Bass welcoming her arms around his neck again. Feeling so much, too fucking much, because she clings on to him the way she does. Needing _him_ now.

He pushes into her slowly, deeply. Wanting to give her time to adjust to him. And then, she whispers into his ear right before she makes sure he cannot think straight anymore.

'Fuck me...please fuck me.'

He growls at her, 'Dammit Charlie...'

And then, it is them, a wall, deep thrusting, wild moans and them fucking each other. Finally giving in after so long. Body's crashing, mouths meeting, body's thrusting and moaning, eyes looking for the other, challenging, desire, lust.

Both of them realising this is where they want to be right now. Both of them realize they need to be as there is no escape anymore for this raging battle of want and need.

As they realize it is the inevitable finally happening.

Charlie lets Monroe suck on the skin of her neck as she holds herself close to his body. Her arms around his neck and shoulders. Her fingers digging into black leather and bracing herself together with him, for what comes next, right before he comes deep inside of her.

* * *

 **Author's note Thank you for reading and...for letting me know you would love to read more from this, Your feedback is always so very important to me. There is one more chapter in the works for this one! Love from Love**


	3. Chapter 3

Realization

3.

She had walked home with a small unstoppable smile around her lips and the scent of Monroe in her hair. He had sucked on the skin of her neck right before he came and she could steel feel the touch of his lips against the skin of her neck and the sting of his stimulating beard that had been sanding against skin that needed to be touched. Him claiming her now hidden under her hair and jacket again.

After he came he had softly moved his fingers around her ass and squeezed, pulling her closer to his cock and thighs. Playing with her curves with his touch. He had held her there, trapped between man and wall.

She had pushed him way from her. He had smirked at her. She had taken a step back. Adjusting her jacket and swinging her hair back over her shoulders. Their eyes had met.

He had been on the brink of opening his mouth. She had told him she would be fine before he could ask if he could walk her home. She did not need that, she did not want any of that. He had just stood there, his eyes burning into her when she had turned around and had started walking home.

Right before she falls asleep she can still feel Monroe emptying himself inside of her, his thighs strong and demanding slamming into her legs. His low contained grunts with each and every of his thrusts are still ringing in her ears. Alone in her bed, Charlie falls asleep to the rhythm of him close as she tells herself this will be a onetime thing.

* * *

Monroe's low grunts vibrate through her belly when he is pushing deep inside of her three months later. His eyes are going to that dark place that make her lower belly and thighs yearn for him even more.

Of course it had not been a onetime thing. If she knows anything about Monroe is that the asshole always crosses her path.

This time they are entangled on a bed in a bedroom upstairs. They are spending the hours before sunrise in a safe house sixty miles from Willoughby. They are on the road again.

They would fuck when they could not stay away from the other. Or when they needed release from a fight. Or when they were tired of the other's banter and sharp words and they decided the best way to shut the other up was to fuck their brains out.

She holds on to his shoulders to give herself some leverage when his powerful body washes over her and she moves her legs around his thighs. Ordering him to get her to her to her place of release. He can get her there like no other man she has ever had. Monroe can get her there in ways she has never experienced.

Bass watches how she is losing herself in the moment when all there is right now is her thighs and her wet permission around him. She is pinned under him. Normally she wants to ride him and hell, he is the last one to deny her any of that. But on nights like these, it is like she almost craves his weight on top of her, licking his neck, her slender fingers around his shoulders.

He fucking likes watching her at any time of the day. On the road, near a fire, midflight. But when she is about to let go, when she watches him like nothing and no one else mattered, he caves. That is the Charlie with such raw beauty that it is making him loose whatever control he has. That is the woman _he_ craves for.

He has to look at her face, he has to look at her when she comes. He has no fucking clue what they are doing, but hell, her under him, on top of him, panting, moaning, sweat to sweat, skin to skin, he is drinking her in. All of her. He takes every minute she lets him close like this. Only satisfied when she is limp in his arms after he made her come.

He places one more thrust, angling his thighs and knees so he knows he is hitting the right spot. Knowing it will make her come. Bass watches how she holds on to him but still closes her eyes at the same time. He crushes her mouth with his, needing to reach her somehow. Making her feel who she is fucking. Knowing he cannot hold on much longer.

Charlie feels the way he takes her mouth like he would demand a room when he walked into it. She feels him come with one last grunt and curse. His head close to her cheek, his arms trembling next to her shoulders, one on each side.

She gives herself some time to catch her breath when his chest is still connected to her chest. Then she moves away from his chest hovering over her and eyes she is not willing to meet. She moves her feet over the bed and does not look at him .She starts to grab her panties.

Sunrise is close, she needs to get out there to hunt. There is always a reason why she does not stay in his bed, in his arms afterwards.

She is sitting on the edge of the bed. His sweat is still caressing her skin, strong scent and warm humidity. Her hair is brushing her back. Her back that is turned to Monroe. He is behind her. Wrapped in a sheet that barely covers his lower body as she starts to dress herself.

'So, you know..' his voice is raspy and low, smug ego in it.

Charlie feels the tone in his voice reaching the spot in her mind that tells her that what will be next will be something that will piss her of. Something he has been brooding on. Monroe does that, just that, over and over again _. Think, brood. Wait_. And then, like a predator he would corner you with eyes that would look away at first but would demand yours when he was delivering the last final punch.

She just knows it will happen again here and she closes her eyes quickly for a second to brace herself for whatever will be next.

' You could have let Duncan shoot me there in Vegas.'

And there it is. A truth so big and meaningful that it has already found a way into Charlie's heart a long time ago. She went to Vegas to kill Monroe the first time. She pulled her gun on the woman who threatened him the second time. She could have taken a step to her left, telling Duncan to go for it. But she couldn't. Not after what he did for her. Not after what she did for him. Not when it had started to mean something when it shouldn't.

And Monroe, _the son of a bitch_ , had figured it out too and had plotted this move for a long time. Pleased with himself with that raw dangerous and so personal edge to it, making her unable to not feel what she feels.

Bass is on his right side, watching how Charlie's shoulders tense at his words. He has figured it out a long time ago, adding more to the infuriating doubts and questions and things he should not the hell feel when it comes to her. And he is not going to keep his mouth shut. Not anymore.

Charlie feels the refusal of her heart to show all its colours. But she won't back out of this. She leans forward to grab her tank that has landed on the floor. She looks at him and rolls her eyes.

Bass refuses to back out of this. He shifts his body and moves closer to her, sitting now right behind her on the bed. His weight behind her creating a shift in the mattress. Almost making her body fall against his chest. His fingers move possessively over her shoulder blades, following the line of her back.

Charlie closes her eyes at all the ways he is claiming her skin and heart. And then, she cannot take it anymore and moves away from his touch. Bass pulls back, pressing his lips together to prevent him from touching her and putting his mouth on the space between her shoulder blades.

She closes the straps of her bra. Bass does not look away from her but lets her be. She is not the first Matheson he has dealt with.

He moves over to her with one arm and hand reaching for her. Moving some hair out of her face. Brushing it over her shoulder to connect in some fucking small way with her.

Charlie breathes out slowly.

'I couldn't all right. Not after everything...' She has to swallow. '...not after everything you did for me.'

Bass feels his heart beat wildly. He has expected a smirk and Matheson sarcasm with just enough bite to wound his heart a little bit more. But not this, not this honesty. It rips right through him and feels the overwhelming urge to get the hell out of the room and to kiss her and taste every inch of her.

She needs time before she can look at him again. Finally she turns his way, meeting his eyes . The smugness she heard in his words is gone now from his shoulders and face. His eyes are laying wide and raw open in front of her.

'When I fight with someone, I fight with someone, Monroe. No compromises.'

Bass feels his heartbeat with each and every of her words. Fuck, she is destroying him there. Her unwilling to be anything else than who she is right in front of him. Her body turned to his, her body behind her, her skin warm from his thrusts and touches. Her thighs wet because of him. Charlie showing something he has read in her eyes for so long. To him.

She gets up, grabs her shit and is out of the door. She stops in the doorway. 'I am going hunting.'

Instead of the smug ego in his eyes that she could have handled, and she wishes he would give her, he looks at her with a softer burning blue. Something that grounds her unexpectedly, and fills her with something else than the dark cold waves of what is her life these days. She looks back. There is a yield in his eyes and shoulders that makes her next breath warmer in her chest.

She gives herself a moment to really lock into him right before she walks out of the door, Monroe still on the bed they had just shared, with a sheet around his thighs.

* * *

 **Author's Note, This story is slowly tilting towards something else, something deeper, with more layers. I am working on chapter four and will publish that one soon. Thank you so much for your support and reviews. Knowing you are there means so much to me. Love from Love**


	4. Chapter 4

**Before we start a little note about spelling: I am from Europe and English is not my first language. A little fact that can cause troubles within my writing. A kind reader brought to my attention that the spelling of the title should be Realization instead of Realisation. I looked into it and I found differences in English and American spelling. I thought I spelled it correctly but...difference in language can be tricky ( grammar and meaning of words) and I think it should be Realization indeed. So thank you to that very kind reader for the feedback. Know I very much appreciate you taking the time to send me this feedback. I thank you for the opportunity to learn more about the English language. And now...it is back to the story, for chapter four of...Realization.( z, not s ;) ) I hope I got it right this way, if not, please let me know! Love**

* * *

Realization

4.

It had been just a flash. A glimpse through battle under trees on a clearing in a forest fifty miles south east from Austin.

The fight against a small group of kaki in the middle of their own personal fight. The fight against watching an uncle drink guilt and darkness away, the bottle never far and dangling in his hand next to his thigh. The fight of her mom mentioning her uncle's name more than she would ever remember her father together with her. The fight between Connor and Bass who were trying to find some kind of steady ground. Now Connor and Bass had both realized that a Republic was a promise Bass had made for other reasons in Mexico to Connor than to actually build it again.

It had been just a flash. But the flash had bombarded its way into her mind and heart and into her steady hands around her knife and crossbow. A glimpse of tall youth and a chequered red shirt. She had lost her focus midflight. Miles and Bass close while she was haunted with images she could not keep out anymore.

And then, in between the screams and adrenaline her vision sharpened and time slowed down. Her heart leaped into her chest with cold wild more adrenaline, numb and cold at the same time. And then, a movement in kaki close to her right pulled her back to the present and the face of a boy she met once near a river was gone. Bass had moved to her right side, slicing his way through a guy on his way to kill her as Miles made a half circle with just his body while moving his two swords with deadly precision.

Bass and Charlie had locked eyes for just a second before they both had fought on. The weeks were moving into an endless stream of fighting. Miles had already told her once it could mess with your head and that he was there for her. A conversation on another battle field far away and years ago when they were fighting side to side with Atlanta.

With that memory in mind after the fight she distances herself from anyone before they can ask questions. After nightfall, after the battle, she walks to an empty room in their safe house. It is dark and desolated and everything she needs right now. She closes the door firmly, like it would shut everything else out. She tilts her head, moving the back of her head against the wood of the closed door. She breathes in and out.

She had not been able to talk to Aaron who had asked her if she was all right hours after the battle. She has ignored Bass' eyes, blood spatters on his own face, a knife in hand, his rigid adrenaline filled shoulders close to hers. She has ignored Miles questioning looks.

She refuses to even consider to talk to her mother. Rachel has tried to approach her while she had walked into their current camp on the road with Miles, Connor and Bass. Her mom who always gives her hell until her own failing Charlie as a mother catches up with Rachel and she uses her sugar sweet I never walked away from you shit voice. She cannot take her grandpa's attempts to get them both to behave and get along because _he_ cannot take the pressure of mother and daughter and their battles.

She tries to keep it all on the other side of the door. She tells herself to breathe. But somehow, everything is catching up with her in a wild storm of fire and emotions. And it is just her and her barely outrunning that storm, alone in the room.

* * *

Austin, 2 weeks later

Bass is going through an endlessly boring day of meetings in Walnut's headquarters in Austin. Other officers and rangers have been and are still avoiding his eyes and arguments and piss mood since he walked in. He could not give a fuck. He pinches the bridge of his nose mid meeting as his minds drifts back to Charlie.

The past months had been hell. The last waves of kaki threat there for them to slice through. Them on the road. Sleeping around fires, watching their backs. Eat whatever Charlie could hunt down. Everything and everyone had been on edge and now they had returned to Willoughby things had settled down a bit.

But tensions were still running high. Rachel busy with her own bullshit. Miles drinking all fucking day. Staypuft silent and with puppy guilt eyes to his wife. And Charlie, she is too fucking quiet, too harsh, too filled with a sarcasm and edge that is not her. Replacing the Charlie he knew from the months before.

So he tried to hold on, for her. To watch out, for her. But she had been more and more unreachable and even Miles had opened his damn mouth about it to him. And dammit, when his brother started to talk voluntarily, he knew they were in some fucking trouble. They both watch out for her the best way they can, but Bass feels she is putting distance between her and him. They would still fuck but it would be quick and hard and she never would allow him in her bed or stay in his. She would avoid any personal conversations or move away from him when he tried to hold her or get close in any other way.

Hell, he cannot blame her. It is exactly what he had been doing the past decade in Philly. But his mind swirls around her, unable to let her go with his thoughts as both Miles and Frank whine on and on about things he could not give a fuck about right now.

* * *

One week later

She has asked him for her hard, so he gives her hard. But he never takes his eyes away from her.

When she stomped into the room and shoved the door behind her with a nonchalant meeting of wood against wood, he lets her. A report from Frank fucking Blanchard himself in his hands, a glass of whiskey close to demand his attention and time, but still, he lets her.

When she demanded him to kiss her with force instead of taking his time with her, he lets her. When her hands move to his pants and belt and then straight to his cock, he lets her. Her fingers are moving restlessly and fast and she will not even look at him, her eyes closed, but he lets her.

He knows the past weeks have been hell. He has watched her. Closing of, hard, strong, fast. Unreachable. He also knows what she needs. Something he had been looking for in the endless line of whores that filled his bed. He fucking gets it. She needs to forget, to be fucked, to fuck.

He knows this is going too fast and he is trying to slow her down when he moves his hands in her hair. He is willing to rip hell apart for her, but he cannot take the wild despair in her eyes when he is going to fuck her. He cannot fuck her like this. Not when she is in trouble. Not when she is disappearing. Not when she is like this. He can't. And he fucking won't.

Charlie feels his now familiar touch of calloused fingers and large gentle hands around her head slowing her down. Just for a second. She soaks up how Bass' hands connect with her hair and head. Slow and strong at the same time.

But then everything catches up with her, every single heartbeat of pain and grieve and battle and loss and frustration and fear. And she needs him to be Monroe, not Bass. She needs the spike of anger and harshness. She needs more of him being what he used to be for her. She needs more friction, she needs more angry thrusts to match her angry desperate wild heartbeats.

She wants to fasten this. The thought that she is needing him inside, pulsating through her core and mind.

Bass moves his hands around her shoulder blades as his mouth slows down her angry mouth on hers. He is not sure he can take any more. His cock is aching for her while his heart is being crushed by her storm of darkness.

'Charlie, hey...take it easy.' His voice is smooth and rolling between them.

Charlie looks up, a flash of hurt she is not being able to keep out of her eyes for the fact he is denying her what she needs. Not sure is she can take someone else pushing her in a way she is not ready to face.

Bass sees the dark fear of rejection he knows so fucking well reflected and visible in her eyes. He curses something at himself, not being able to deal with that look in her eyes.

Charlie' eyes are wild blue as she is about to take a step back. She doesn't need this. She came here to fuck, to have him, to take him. Not for anything else. Not for him to tell her what she should do. Not to slow down. She feels numb doubt in her stomach as her mind yells at her to get out of this room and away from him. Away from what he is breaking loose.

But Bass won't let her go, he won't let her put distance between the both of them. He pulls her back to him and cups her cheek, his fingers again in her hair and he kisses her hungrily but slowly, shoving his hard cock in her belly to show her that she is wanted. That he is not walking away from her. From this. From her darkness and pain. Because he knows it all so damn well.

He feels the tension in her shoulders but he keeps on kissing it away. He gently moves her tank over her head and opens her pants while he licks her neck and kisses her jaw line.

Clothes are being removed. Until Charlie is standing between his thighs again, just when she pulled that stunt of hers in that bar. Telling that annoying as hell girl that she was his when he had asked for a favour through staypuft.

Instead of that bar he stands against a wall. Bass moves his hands over and slightly under her ass and lifts her up to his thighs, angling her so she can bury himself inside of her. Charlie feels him wide and hard inside of her. And there is no going back somehow. With every thrust it comes crashing in more and more.

Their first eye lock in that abandoned and empty pool. Unable to look away when they were wounding the other with just their words, both being tied up with ropes against the walls of that pool.

Another thrust, another of Bass' low manly grunts in her ear.

Him crashing through those doors in Pottsboro.

Another thrust, her arms now around his neck, his panting close to her mouth.

Him on the road. Him side by side, fighting. Him coming back for her. More fighting, more bloodshed. His eyes always there for her to find.

No matter how many times she has lashed out to him. No matter how many times she had fired hate and venom and loathing in his face. No matter how many times she had blamed him for things that were not only things he did, blame that should not have been only for him. No matter what kind of stupid mistake she had made to push him away for good in Vegas around a fire.

He is here.

Another thrust as that realization crashes through her and Bass is stretching her with him pushing inside of her.

 _He is here._

Another thrust. And then there is the last realization that brings her through her knees.

She wants him here.

It is him.

And then, when Bass moves his thighs and reaches that spot with that angle he always finds for her, she cannot hold on anymore, she cannot keep the door closed anymore.

It is him.

When she comes she cannot hold back, she cannot not need him, crave him. Want him. Look at him. She cannot fight the urge to want to disappear into him. She cries out when her orgasm takes her, hard. Her fingers dig into her shoulders. She cannot not say his name.

 _It is him..._ 'Bass..' She cries, she whimpers, she pants. Her head finding the shelter of the nook of his neck.

A cry through the room, _her_ cry, _his name_ , shocks Bass through his core. He is standing before her, her between his damn thighs and buried inside of her, his eyes wide and in shock when she crashes straight to his heart.

Charlie is breathing hard when Bass has stopped moving. And then, after the release, after his name, after knowing she cannot go back now, not when her heart is forged in his by this moment, she starts to shock with tears.

It is him.

Bass feels the wetness of her tears against his chest. He feels her tremble and is breathing out harshly. He swallows hard while his breathing is still going a hundred miles an hour. His cock inside of her, filling her. Her arms around her.

And he can feel her walls break, right there under his body and in his fucking arms. He moves her closer to his chest. His mind racing to hold her and whisper into her ear she is safe here with him. that he has her. That he will not let her go. He holds her and with her in his arms he steps away from the wall, Charlie sobbing into the nook of his neck. One of his hands protecting her head.

His arms are around her middle and hips as he sits down with her on the bed. Her still in his arms, her on his fucking lap and sobbing into his neck when her body is trembling with release.

He whispers sweet nothings into her hair, slowing her down. Holding her. Sitting it out with her and his heart fucking swelling with things he is afraid to name yet, now she has chosen him to break down, to find release , to let go.

It is him.

Charlie feels stupid and weak and sheltered and cared for all at the same time when she finally lets go. And when her sobbing and the sharpest pain slow down, she feels his hand wrapped around her cheek.

"Charlotte, look at me ," his voice is low, so low and so gentle, Charlie has to look up and his heart is beating so damn fast when she finally does. He looks at her, tear filled clear blue eyes, her skin against his, her warm and bare in his arms, all for him, all of her.

'When you are with me, you can always let go. I will not look away, I will not walk away."

Charlie looks at him as this time more gentle tears fill her eyes and warmth with her hear for so much of his strong kindness. Bass feels her eyes fill with Charlotte blue the moment his words finally reach her. And her eyes are telling him she will not ever look away from him.

Not now, not after everything. Not when they have found this in the middle of the giant fucking mess.

Bass brushes some hair out of her face when he watches how she is trying to form words with her lips who are wet with her tears.

"It's you..." Her voice is hesitant.

Charlie looks at him, looking at every inch of him. Bass feels the tension building in his jaw. It's like she cannot understand herself completely, the moment she speaks before thinking. The feeling comes before the speaking or the thinking it through.

It is like there is a question mark in her words. But then she moves her hand over his shoulder. Her eyes are strong and warm at the same time.

"It's you Bass." This time there is no question mark.

Charlie sees him look away from her, his wide blue eyes filling with the shimmer of the start of tears. His jaws trembling with tension.

And this time, Bass eyes are flowing with salty tears that he pushes away just in time. He just moves his head and kisses her, deeply, strongly. Cradling her in his arms as Charlie seeks out his warmth.

That night, after he took her again in deep slow thrusting and she took him for all that he was. Quick fucking and long lasting lust and want and need slowly forged into making love and forging trust and a future. Her body under his, her legs between his thighs. Her moving her hair over one shoulder as she turns them both and she rides him with a slow steady pace of her hips and her eyes locked with his.

Two people in one bed. Bass realizing that he could mean something for someone again. To someone, one hell of a woman, her, Charlie. Who's honest moral compass would never betray him like he has been betrayed before. Bass is kissing her in her hair when he pulls her close after their lovemaking.

Charlie feels the warm scent of him on her own skin and between their bodies. Realizing that she has found something worthy of her heart trying again.

That night, Charlie does not leave his bed.

 _The end...or to be continued in many other stories_

* * *

 **Author's Note Next stop for me are my stories and contributions to the** **Armada: a chance for me to write and try new scenes and angles. There will be a lot of Charloe, new back story and scenes. but also stories with themes around mothers, fathers, brotherhood, friendship, love, loss and passion. All of them Revolution. Maybe I will meet you there? I am also working on a new Charloe story, a very sensual and passionate one! More about that soon! Love from Love**


End file.
